


Gilded

by rokubiraijuu



Series: Fanfiction Commissions [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood Kink, M/M, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 11:42:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/939603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rokubiraijuu/pseuds/rokubiraijuu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Commission for myunicornsmites on tumblr. Sam&Gabriel. Explicit content.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gilded

**Author's Note:**

> Commissioner: myunicornsmites  
> Fandom/Ship: Supernatural/Sam&Gabriel  
> Final Page Count: 4.5  
> Prompt: Gabriel never gave up being a Trickster; even when he joined Team Free Will and Lucifer was back in the box, he still enjoyed punishing the people who deserved it through fatal tricks. Sam is having trouble dealing with this; they're supposed to kill people like Gabriel after all, those that kill humans, even if they did deserve it. Until one night Gabriel comes back splattered with blood and Sam discovers a kink he didn't realise he had, and figures that maybe letting Gabriel get away with the whole trickster thing isn't so bad after all.  
> Date Completed: 8/23/2013
> 
> author's note: commission info is, as always, on my tumblr: ofancientwinters, on the link at the sidebar. please feel free to commission if you want anything!

“Gabriel.” His name was a statement, not a question, and the archangel lifted his head at the rustled slap of pages on the table in front of him, the semi-crinkled edges of the day’s newspaper demanding admission for his actions. He didn’t look at it; instead, his gaze, feigning innocence, went to the young man standing in front of him, brow slightly knit in disapproval, his jaw set in that titular Sam Winchester way that told Gabriel that he knew something he wasn’t too happy about. “It was you, wasn’t it.”

Gabriel just let out a long sigh, as though as he was getting up from a relaxing stretch, and eased backward more in his chair. He didn’t need to look at the news to know what Sam was referring to. “Did you see the guy? He must have weighed a ton, he was so full of himself.” He glanced up, but the younger Winchester was having none of it. “Oh come on, I know you guys are all bleeding heart for humans, but I was not just gonna let someone like him walk the streets. Four accounts of spousal abuse – he was starting on the kids – “

“I can’t just keep letting this happen. We’re hunters – we kill people like you. It doesn’t matter if you’re offing murderers, it’s just not right.”

“Isn’t it?” The directness of Gabriel’s sudden seriousness caught Sam off guard, and he swallowed. “Who’s really doing society the favor, here? Think about it.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Really? Cause I think it is.” He watched as Sam heaved a heavy breath, looking off to the side in that way he did when he was frustrated and couldn’t find something to say. He watched the way that jaw shifted, the way he transferred his weight to the other foot. All signs of agitation he’d grown to learn well. “Sammy, Sammy… let me take a guess. Did Dean tell you to tell me all this?” When he got no answer but a quick glance, Gabriel sighed. “When are you going to learn to do something other than what he tells you? I told you this before, y’know. Are you really mad about this, or is he?” 

But Sam was already walking out of the room, leaving Gabriel sitting where he was. He watched the other’s back disappear beyond the threshold of the door, and then exhaled heavily, shaking his head as he dug another Snickers bar out of his pocket.

That wasn’t the first time Gabriel’s trickster habits had become a source of tension in their relationship, nor was it the last. Dean blamed it on the apparent angelic inability to give two shits about the lives of humans, but such a comment was a quick way to ignite Sam’s temper. The younger Winchester was caught in a constant limbo, a tug of war between an instinctive disapproval for the taking of human life out of cold blood and his deepening affection for the archangel. No matter what he said though, no matter how upset he got about it, Gabriel was set about his habits: “I’m not killing innocent people, Sam. They’re getting what’s coming to them. I’m an archangel; if you want to look at it this way, I punish the sinful. It’s what we were made to do. This whole trickster gig is just part of my job.” So Sam knew it was up to him to make the final call, and he knew Gabriel knew it too, and was waiting for it. Either he tolerated the practice and let it go, or he let the angel go. 

Days passed, weeks, sunrises and sunsets alike finding the younger Winchester weighing his morals against his love. Was he adamant enough about this to give away one of the few things in life that made him happy that he’d been allowed to keep? Not Jess, not college, Bones, Amelia. Everything had faded away in favor of his family, in favor of the Life, because what other choice did he have? But Gabriel was as much a part of all of this as he was, as Dean, as Cas. For once, he didn’t have to choose.

The decision was still a swarming tempest in his head the day Gabriel came back covered in blood. Not his own, mind. The familiar rustling sound of an angel’s approach made Sam turn around, heart stopping its pumping for one terrifying moment at the sight of the crimson-splattered angel in front of him. “Gabriel?”

“Don’t panic – it’s his. Guess I didn’t figure he would’ve been so worked up. Blood pressure must have been off the chart. … You okay?” Sam was staring at him, for a moment forgetting that the case the Team had been working on was closed now that Gabriel had hunted down their monster and iced him. He’d never really seen blood on Gabriel before – come to think of it, he was always pretty immaculate. Didn’t like to get his hands dirty. It made sense, since he usually pulled his tricks from afar and let his victims sort of fall into them. But Sam was surprised at his own reaction, because… well, damn, Gabriel looked good like that. Maybe it was the fact that he’d gone so far as to personally kill their monster, or maybe it was just the way the crimson flattered his complexion, but one way or another he was swallowing down a lump in his throat after a few seconds and trying his best to ignore the encroaching thoughts about what it would feel like to sort of swirl the scarlet in spirals on Gabriel’s skin and let its metallic ruby stain his own torso when he pinned Gabriel against the floor – 

“Oh, no. I know that look.” Gabriel’s tone had changed now to something amused, taunting, and Sam glanced up at him, swallowing thickly again, but the wry, knowing look on the archangel’s face did nothing to slow the pounding of his heart against his ribcage. “Well Sam, I gotta say – never knew you had a thing for this. Should I do it more often?”

He was standing before he knew he had moved. “Don’t say that. Oh god, this is so not okay.” But his hands were sliding up to Gabriel’s shoulders and there was only a hint of trepidation in his eyes, which vanished pretty soon after Gabriel’s hands settled against his hips and his lips turned up in that snarky little smirk that always got him going.

“Shh. Don’t think. You always think. How do you want me, kiddo?”

That was all it took, and two seconds later Gabriel’s back was thudding lightly against the wall, Sam’s mouth pressed to his own, hot, demanding, the mere pressure of it sending sparks through the archangel’s body. He might’ve been an angel, but in a vessel like this he was a good deal shorter than the Winchester, who easily pinned him to the white-washed surface with his torso, his hands already tugging at Gabriel’s blood-stained jacket in an urgent effort to remove it. The shuffle of fabric only made the angel smile, a wry little curl of the lips as Sam discarded the jacket, landing in a heap on the floor. The smile soon faded in the rising passion of a second kiss, breathing getting heavier as hands grasped at fabric, fingers tangling in hair as they pulled each other closer. 

It didn’t take long before heavy breathing turned to stifled gasps tucked in the space between them, hair slightly disheveled. “Gabe.” The angel’s name was a plea, followed by the sharp friction of their hips, the slow grind of clothed erections drawing muffled moans from both, lips parting slightly to draw labored air into their lungs, foreheads pressed together, mere centimeters from each other. 

Untangling one hand from the cloth of Sam’s beloved plaid shirt, Gabriel snapped his fingers, and suddenly the barrier of clothing was gone, pants and shirts scattered on the floor to join his fallen jacket. Sam pulled back for a single startled moment, eyes wide – apparently he never got totally used to the fact that Gabriel could do that so easily. “Wait, Dean and Cas – “

Another snap of the fingers and the door to the room slammed shut, followed by the audible, definitive click of the lock. “Not anymore,” Gabriel interrupted him, smirking. Sam just swallowed, and then shrugged. Not like Dean hadn’t sexiled him plenty of times before – hell, why not? Then Gabriel was moving in front of him and he stepped back to let him turn around, and god, there was all this red splatter across his back like paint across a seamless canvas, and then there was suddenly a faint shimmer out of the corner of his eye. “You like it like this, don’t you, Sam?” He had to take another step back as small slits split in the muscles of Gabriel’s back, pouring ivory Grace that blossomed out like enormous petals.

Damn him, was all he could think as he watched three pairs of gilded, pristine wings unfurl from the pale light, Grace fitting together into feathers, six arching wingbones spanning out to a full, impressive length like rippling, molten gold. And this wasn’t even his true form. He had always loved Gabriel’s wings – at first, because they had been the physical manifestation of what made him so celestial, the answer to everything Sam had been hoping for when he’d prayed to angels before he’d even known they were real. And now, simply because they were a beautiful part of the angel he’d fallen in love with.

But what Gabriel had been explicitly referring to was a more practical, maybe crude purpose for the wings curling in front of him. Touching them at first was always a slow beginning, like he had to learn anew every time that he could, that they weren’t going to break, that he wasn’t going to defile them just by putting his hands on them. He looked up at Gabriel, watching the way the angel’s eyes followed his arm as it lifted, rested on the fingers as he curled them reverently around one bend. And he especially loved watching the way those eyes rolled back a little and closed when he ran his fingers down toward the tip, rustling through feathers, the way stroking his wings like this was one of the few ways he could pull his name from Gabriel’s mouth in that luxurious groan the way he did now. “Yeah,” he murmured, eager, slowly pressing himself to Gabriel’s back, relishing in the warm slide of their bare skin, the way he knew the polka dots of crimson between them were blending onto his chest too. “Yeah, I like it like this. This is good.”

And then he bent forward, pressing heated, open-mouthed kisses to the back of Gabriel’s neck, one arm wrapped around the archangel’s torso to hold him in place against him, the other feathering explorative fingers, a firm palm against his wings, one after another, sifting through the silk-like feathers from where they joined with Gabriel’s shoulderblades down to the very tips where they trembled with pleasure as he touched them. Each time it drew such an expressive moan from the angel pinned against the wall that Sam had to bite his lip just to hold back his own groans so he could listen to him. It was one of the only times, too, that he was able to feel Gabriel shudder against him.

Not much longer afterwards, it was Gabriel’s turn to arch his back, uttering a plaintive “Sam, c’mon, now you’re just teasing”, which was Sam’s signal to smirk, pressing one more fleeting kiss to the sweat-damp skin of the angel’s shoulder before he pulled back, bending over to rummage hurriedly through the pockets of his discarded clothing for the bottle of lube he’d kept on him. Urgency was pumping through his veins with every heartbeat, each second reminding him of how much he wanted, his cock aching as he popped open the cap, drizzling the liquid over its stiff length, one hand slicking himself as the other played a last few lingering caresses against the sensitive outline of Gabriel’s wings. “I love you,” he whispered, husky, as he lined himself up, a hushed sentiment that Gabriel returned with a not-oft heard “yeah, me too, kiddo.”

He pushed in with a barely stifled groan, gritting his jaw tight as he clutched at Gabriel’s shoulders, loving the way the other inevitably arched against him, smearing the mostly dried droplets of ruby between them as he moaned, nails digging against the wall for some purchase. Their foreplay had done enough to arouse them both, and neither had the patience for something slow and teasing – Sam set a quick pace as soon as he was all the way in and he knew Gabriel was comfortable, pulling almost entirely back back before thrusting in with a soft groan to match the angel’s own.

Everything else around them blended away quickly in favor of the searing heat between them, Sam’s face tucked against Gabriel’s shoulder, panting breaths washing over his skin, Gabriel’s arm bent back, his hand gripping at Sam’s hip, trying to drive him in deeper while he braced himself against the wall with the other. The slap of skin on skin echoed in the small motel room, a rhythmic baseline to the occasional little gasps of each other’s names, little moans of “ah, there, yeah – oh that’s really good” and “Gabe – Gabe, oh, mmh -- !” filling their little space against the wall. The tight friction of Gabriel around him with each snap of his hips, the slight metallic tinge of blood that covered him, the way Gabriel bucked back against him each time he thrust forward and up – Sam generally considered himself to be in possession of a pretty durable stamina, but he’d never really had anything like Gabriel before and he didn’t think he would ever get over the admittedly odd fact that just knowing he was fucking an angel sent him to highs he would never get used to.

“Sam – need your – ah! C’mon, your hand – “ Half because Gabriel had already found his hand with his own and was tugging it around his waist and half because the way he was almost begging for him was way too hot, Sam willingly smoothed his palm down the other’s torso until he could wrap his fingers around rigid cock, the slick slide of his hand against a shaft damp with pre-come adding to the erotic sounds filling the room.

And then, almost without warning, Gabriel was tensing up beneath him, and Sam couldn’t quite help but moan just because he knew what that meant, and just the fact he had gotten Gabriel to this point so quickly was enough to pull him over the edge, a muffled curse escaping him as he thrust up a couple more times, filling the angel with his come even as he felt wet warmth drip over his fingers, felt Gabriel’s cock pulse and twitch in his hand as he shuddered.

They stayed like that for several long heartbeats, and it was Gabriel, whose abilities allowed him to recover much faster, who first shifted, reaching down to wrap his hand around Sam’s, a gentle gesture of affection that drew a worn-out smile from the younger Winchester who pressed a tired, lingering kiss to the angel’s neck, nosing aside a lock of hair stuck to the skin. “Y’know… maybe… maybe I’ll just let you off the hook.”

A pause, and then Gabriel just laughed. “That easy to convince you? Maybe I’ll just throw some blood on myself whenever you get grumpy from now on.” To that, Sam just grinned, taking a deep breath as he slowly eased himself out of the angel before flipping his hand, linking their fingers together and pulling Gabriel toward the bed for a bit of intimacy before Dean and Castiel came back from the store.


End file.
